


Whisht

by Jay_eagle



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Frottage, M/M, silent sex, stifled noises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 16:00:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1863768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jay_eagle/pseuds/Jay_eagle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fill for this prompt on the meme: Martin and Douglas in a hotel with very thin walls trying to help each other stay silent while they fuck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whisht

“ _Oh God, oh God, oh God_ …” Martin’s voice was strained and rapidly increasing in volume as Douglas pressed him firmly into the wall, mouthing fervently at his neck. “Christ!” Douglas’ tongue had snaked out and licked him swiftly from jugular notch to ear.

 

“Shh!” Fast as lightning, Douglas’ hand flew up, covering Martin’s mouth. “She’ll hear us.”

 

Martin shot him a look of incredulous grumpiness. “Mmmff mmff mmmff.”

 

“What was that?” Douglas whispered, cautiously removing his hand even as he ground his hips against the captain, causing them both to shudder with delicious arousal.

 

“I said –“ Martin’s eyes rolled back for a second as Douglas’ hardness found his own through their trousers. “It’s YOUR fault.” Despite the crankiness in his tones he pulled at Douglas’ nape until their lips met in an impassioned kiss – both of them moaning momentarily at the contact, Douglas louder than Martin this time.

 

Martin pulled away, gasping for air. “YOUR fault. I didn’t ask to be involved in this stupid bet.”

 

“And yet –“ Douglas slid his hands to Martin’s hips, gripped them so he could frot against him more effectively. “Gnuh!” He suddenly moderated his voice again as Martin made a high-pitched whine in his throat. “Shh. And yet you _are_ involved, mon capitaine.” He buried his head in Martin’s chest to contain a noisy rumble of pleasure, sweat beading on his forehead.

 

“Not fair,” Martin gasped, running his fingers through Douglas’ hair, mashing him even closer into his pectoral muscle to try and contain the growls Douglas was making. “I don’t even have £200… and you _know_ I’m… loud.” He blushed, but his embarrassment was soon overtaken with a fresh rush of tingling tension as Douglas wormed his hand between them to unzip their flies. The movement knocked them slightly off balance, and Martin’s elbows bashed into the wall.

 

“Shh!” Douglas tugged him abruptly away from the thin divider between theirs’ and Carolyn’s room. “She’ll hear us, and then we’ll both have to pay.”

 

“Well, _I’m_ sorry,” Martin hissed indignantly. Douglas manhandled them both on to the bed, the noise of their inelegant flop downwards muffled by the duvet. “It’s not _my_ fault if you’ve been driving me – _oh_ – mad _all_ day.”

 

The _oh_ had heralded Douglas swiftly divesting him of his trousers and running a rapid hand up his cock through his pants. Martin thrashed, kicking his heels at the sensation, suddenly realizing he was risking the headboard knocking into the wall.

 

Douglas had apparently had the same thought, for the next second he was stretched out on top of Martin, using his weight to keep him absolutely still, gripping Martin’s wrists in his hands, holding them to the pillow. “Don’t. Move.”

 

In lieu of an answer, Martin leaned forward and caught Douglas into another breathless snog, rocking his pelvis upwards. It was Douglas’ turn to let out a louder moan than was wise. “ _God_ , Martin, Martin –“

 

Martin wormed a hand free from Douglas’ vice-like grip. “Here.” He thrust two fingers deep into the first officer’s mouth, electric desire crackling through him at the feel of Douglas’ caressing tongue, the strong sucking sensation going straight to his cock. “You can’t – can’t be loud – _ahh_ – around those.”

 

Douglas nodded, his hips grinding down into Martin’s. _When did he remove his trousers?_ Martin wasn’t even sure. All he could focus on was the feel of Douglas, hot and hard against him, around him….

 

“Oh -! Mmm-mmm!” Martin tried to speak, but Douglas’ hand was suddenly over his mouth again. He glared at his infuriating FO, crossly, to no effect.

 

Douglas released Martin’s fingers from between his lips with a soft lick, whispering now. “You were gasping – so loudly –“ He seemed to lose his train of thought for a second as his movements stuttered. “Fuck, so good…”

 

“Unnh!” Martin’s inarticulate grunt was frustrated, his rhythm lost amid the surprise, squirming beneath Douglas’ firm hand half-covering his face.

 

Douglas’ eyes focused again. “Here. This should remind you to keep schtum.” His eyes glittered wickedly. With one hand he loosened Martin’s tie, hastily tugging it up so that the knot was positioned squarely between Martin’s jaws.

 

“’nd ‘oo?” Martin somehow managed to sound crotchety even through a mouthful of polyester neckwear.

 

“Me?” Douglas’ expression was mischievous and incendiary all at once. “I’ll fill my mouth with something… else.”

 

Martin made a questioning noise, but before he could complete it, Douglas had dived lower down the bed, was tugging off Martin’s boxers, leaving the captain in no doubt what he had planned.

 

Even with advance knowledge of what Douglas was about to do, Martin wailed, only barely stifled by the tie in his mouth as Douglas engulfed his cock right down to the base in one go. The soft, wet heat sent a delicious pulse through his balls and he arched up in spite of himself, seeking to plunge deeper into his co-pilot’s mouth.

 

Douglas coughed around him and Martin shot him an apologetic look, stroking his hair. Douglas merely raised an eyebrow and resumed sucking, causing an ecstatic whimper to form in Martin’s throat – especially when he saw that whilst one of Douglas’ hands was threading through the auburn fuzz around Martin’s balls, the other was thrust out of sight between his own legs – and judging by the jerking motion of his arm, he was bringing himself off hard and fast. The sight of Douglas’ eyes closed in bliss, his mouth wrapped tight around Martin, the ricocheting jerks through both of them as he wanked – Martin nearly came down Douglas’ throat without warning at the visual stimulation.

 

He just about managed to push Douglas off him in time, forgetting himself and crying out “STOP!” The word was just about distinguishable through the tie – and far too loud. Both of them froze, listening carefully for any indication that Carolyn had heard them through the stupidly flimsy wall. _Damn cheap Scottish  hotels_ , Martin cursed internally, panting with the effort of not coming, stepping back from the brink of climax mentally. He pulled Douglas up beside him, relishing in the sensation of his partner’s hard shaft rubbing up his legs as he tugged him up the bed. Douglas obviously _didn’t mind_ the feeling either, judging by the way he paused twice to slip back and fore as he went.

 

Martin yanked the tie out of his mouth, desperate praise tumbling out of his lips in an urgent susurrus of compliments. “ _So_ good Douglas, so good, nearly came, love your mouth, love you, God, oh God –“ Douglas cut him off with another searing kiss, licking into Martin’s mouth and silencing his urgent whisper as best he could.

 

He drew back at last with a frantic intake of breath. “Want you.”

 

Martin laughed, as quietly as he was able. “You have me.”

 

Douglas shook his head, gave him a heated stare that made Martin go wobbly inside, even lying down as they were. “I want you. Want to fuck you.” He rolled his hips again, making them both utter hastily aborted little cries.

 

“Hush.” Martin pulled Douglas’ face into his neck, feeling him bite lightly to suppress another impassioned noise. “We can’t – you know I can’t – _gah_ – stay quiet when you do _that_.”

 

Douglas raised his head again, licked at Martin’s ear. “Don’t care… It’s only pride, the bet.”

 

“And money.” In spite of himself, Martin reached down, pulled Douglas’ buttocks deeper against him, humping urgently. “Ohh…” He was so close –

 

“ _Please_ , Martin.” Douglas’ voice was imploring, his fingers running ticklishly up Martin’s flanks, a manoeuvre Martin adored – as Douglas well knew.

 

“Christ.” Martin couldn’t hold back any more. “Go – go on then.”

 

“ _Yes_.” Douglas dived off the bed, returned two seconds later clutching the small bottle of lube that had become a standard carry-on item for them both since they had first fallen into bed together two months before. “Spread these.” He tapped apart Martin’s legs.

 

At the first light press of Douglas’ finger to his hole, Martin couldn’t contain a sob of naked desire. Douglas’ brow creased for a second, but then he snagged something from his toilet bag and hastily threw it to the captain. “Bite.”

 

It was a flannel. Martin chomped down on it with the same fervour that he’d attacked his rare steak with at dinner an hour before – a dinner that had involved Douglas feeding him dessert from his own fork across the table and had culminated in a frustrated Carolyn challenging them to this bet, so exasperated had she become at Douglas’ increasingly flagrant public displays of affection over the last two months. She’d whinged that if they kept her up _again_ that night she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions. Martin had blushed deepest crimson, but Douglas had immediately fired back with the offer of £400 if she heard so much as a peep out of them. All well and good, until Douglas had jumped Martin the second they were back through the hotel bedroom door, seemingly unable to restrain himself after a day of increasingly heated build-up in the flight deck and throughout the meal…

 

Now, seeing that Martin was effectively muffled, Douglas wasted no time in preparing him – Martin’s extreme arousal making his task easier than it had ever been, his fingers sliding through the slick of lube to find and manipulate his prostate, sending waves of heat crashing through Martin like the incoming tide.

 

The piece of damp cloth might have muted Martin’s vocalisations, but it couldn’t contain the whining he was making at the back of his throat, spilling forth uncontrollably as the pads of Douglas’ clever fingers probed lightly around inside him. “Shh, shh,” Douglas begged, but half-heartedly. The noise of Martin struggling to contain his urge to moan as he took him apart was apparently turning him on highly effectively, the first officer’s face flushed pink, hips thrusting desperately against the foot of the bed as he struggled to hold himself back.

 

Martin spat out the flannel for a second. “For God’s sake, Douglas,” he whimpered, doing his best not to wail, to stay quiet. “ _Now._ I need you now –“

 

Douglas needed no further invitation, it appeared. He moved faster than Martin would have believed possible, hurling himself hastily back up the bed again to rub his stiff cock tantalizingly over Martin’s balls a few times, replacing the cloth between his lips as he peppered Martin’s forehead with butterfly kisses of adoration.

 

It didn’t take Douglas long to give in to Martin’s pleading eyes, tears of frustration and excitement beginning to bead at the edge of the younger man’s long lashes. “ _Now_ ,”Douglas gasped, and sank his cock in, pushing as gently as he could past the tight sphincter that stretched easily to allow him passage.

 

Their eyes met as Douglas penetrated him, Martin glimpsing the familiar look of wonderment in Douglas that he couldn’t ever quite believe he was responsible for inspiring. As Douglas reached full depth, he nudged at Martin’s most sensitive spot exquisitely, making him nearly drop the flannel as the delicious first shock shot through him. He clenched reflexively around Douglas’ shaft inside him, making the first officer emit a hurriedly choked-off shout.

 

Shaking his head imploringly, Martin raised a caressing hand to Douglas’ cheek. He trailed a fingertip over Douglas’ cheekbone as Douglas began to thrust, slowly at first, giving Martin a chance to get used to the stretch around him, before building in tempo. He dropped his forehead on to Martin’s, so the captain could hear his panting breaths interspersed with scattered words of affection, passion: _gorgeous, beautiful, darling_.

 

Martin was wrestling desperately internally, the need for silence at war with his impulse to show his appreciation for Douglas’ firm strokes by moaning at the top of his lungs. _It isn’t surprising that Carolyn’s patience has worn out_ , he thought dizzily – he’d never been able to stay this quiet before while Douglas was fucking him, and even now he was shivering cries into the cloth of the flannel, teeth clamped firmly around it still.

 

Douglas wasn’t unaffected, either – as his thrusts picked up pace, he drove Martin further and further up the bed and his whispered words became non-verbal sighs and then groans as he gave himself over entirely to the sensation of taking Martin, plunging into him over and over. Martin dimly registered that he should help Douglas stay quiet – so he raised a shaking hand and pushed three fingers into his mouth. As Douglas opened his lips to slip them in, he coughed out a sharp cry that resounded in Martin’s ears, as something about his marginally altered motion apparently triggered a flood of fresh pleasure within him.

 

Martin’s face was frantic, he knew – both with the force of the sensations swirling through him, electrifying him from head to foot, and with the knowledge that – _oh, fuck_ – they were definitely being too loud now. Douglas might be sucking his fingers again, but he was also taking shuddering, noisy gasps of air and the motion of his hips slamming into Martin’s tight arse was thumping the headboard into the wall with his every thrust. The _thin_ wall. The one that Carolyn was on the other side of.

 

Martin gave up at long last, unable to hold back any longer. He spat the flannel out so he could wail as he wanted to, his shouts broken like sobs in the humid air between them. Douglas’ strokes inside him were hitting his prostate almost perfectly every time, and his cock (already partly slick with the pre-come slipping from him at the extended stimulation)-was perfectly caught between their stomachs, being oh-so-amazingly teased by Douglas’ movements up and down him. He yanked his fingers free from Douglas’ mouth and kissed him, again and again, delighting in the feel of Douglas shaking with attempted restraint.

 

“Give up,” he gasped, in what was supposed to be a whisper but in fact turned into a strangled cry. “We’ve lost.”

 

Douglas mumbled something indistinct into Martin’s neck, licking it again, sucking gently. Martin’s heart swelled with a heady combination of lust and affection, causing him to wrap his arms firmly around Douglas’ broad, damp back – glorying in the feel of Douglas’ shoulder blades shifting beneath his skin as he thrust harder still, Martin’s hips rocking up to meet him.

 

He was panting, he knew – was so close – “Douglas – I’m going to –“

 

But before he could finish the sentence, Douglas roared, the loudest sound Martin had ever known him to make as he came, shoving deep and clutching tight as he unloaded into Martin. Martin could feel the heavy pulses spurting beautifully inside him, an animal part of his brain chanting _mine, mine, mine_.

 

Frantically, he shoved his hand between their two bodies to jerk at his achingly stiff cock, giving a little exclamation of mingled shock and pleasure as Douglas’s hand met his around his shaft – the first officer’s touch more inexpert than usual after his earthquake of a climax, but perfectly stimulating nonetheless.

 

It didn’t take much – a mere three or four strokes from their coupled fingers – for Martin to reach his own peak. In contrast to Douglas (and most atypically) he came silently, shaking apart under Douglas’ firm, welcome weight, everything between them growing deliciously wet and sticky even as Douglas softened and slipped free of his body’s clutch.

 

Martin’s brain was full of blissful white noise, his vision blurry, vaguely aware of Douglas rolling off him with a sated groan. He used the flannel to swipe half-heartedly at the mess on his chest and stomach, faintly conscious that Douglas was mouthing gentle lips over his shoulder adoringly. With his free hand, he stroked Douglas’ solid thigh, a tickle of contentment radiating through him as his eyes slipped drowsily shut.

 

A thump on the door made his eyelids fly open again, though. He jerked forwards off the pillow, feeling Douglas roll over and stand up beside him. “What was that?”

 

“A message, I think.” Douglas padded, still naked, to the door, bending over to pick something up. He unfolded a white piece of cheap hotel notepaper to show to Martin with a snort. In black marker pen, clearly legible even across the room, was written ‘YOU LOSE’.

 

Martin sighed, unable to bring himself to regret it. “I’d know Carolyn’s handwriting anywhere.”

 

Douglas didn’t reply, just balled the paper up and threw it towards the bin. He strode back towards Martin, an unreadable expression on his face. Martin tugged him into bed. “C’mere,” he whispered, sleepily. “Are you OK?”

 

Douglas nodded, still with the same odd look in his eyes. Martin felt a flash of concern. “I know you hate to lose, love,” he whispered, kissing Douglas softly on the cheek. “But I think that given what just happened…” He smiled, mischief dancing across his face. “I reckon we both won. Really.” He squeezed Douglas’ waist.

 

Douglas laughed, his face clearing. “Oh, Martin.” He returned the captain’s caress, ran his fingers up his bare chest, ticklishly. “We didn’t lose.”

 

Martin was surprised. “I’m glad you believe me.”

 

Douglas grinned wickedly. “No, no. Well – you have a point, of course. That – “ he kissed Martin soundly on the lips briefly before breaking away. “- was _fantastic_. But it’s not what I meant.”

 

“What then?” Martin was baffled. “We’ll have to pay Carolyn.”

 

“You’re forgetting who you’re dating.” Douglas quirked an eyebrow at him. “Douglas Multiple Ulterior Motives In Play Richardson.” He winked.

 

Martin sat up, attempted to look chastising, thought only succeeded in showing his amusement. “And what were the ulterior motives in this situation, pray?”

 

Douglas sat up too and listed on his fingers. “One. Carolyn has grown sick and tired of accidentally overhearing our nocturnal activities. They annoy her desperately – and it’s always my mission to irk our fearless leader. Two: After that flight today, watching your _gorgeous_ bare arms flexing round the yoke –“ He paused to stroke Martin’s hands appreciatively. “- there was no _way_ I wasn’t having you tonight. Three. Judging by the sly, flirty glances you’ve been giving me _all day_ , you weren’t averse to having me either.” He chuckled.

 

Martin’s mind boggled as Douglas kept listing, his feeling of wonderment steadily increasing as Douglas explained his plotting.

 

“Four. I am utterly sick of the rubbish hotels Carolyn keeps forcing us to stay in. Rubbish hotels with thin walls, to be sure, but also uncomfy beds and patchy hot water. We _both_ deserve better.” Douglas grinned sharkily. “All of which led me to: Five. Turn Carolyn’s despair at keeping overhearing us through flimsy room dividers to our advantage. Make her think she’s beaten us – well, me – at a bet, Pay her and appear to sulk. However, once the initial triumph of her ‘victory’ dies away, she’ll soon realise that if not even the threat of financial disadvantage and – worse – loss of pride will silence us, _nothing_ will. And so her only option is –“

 

Martin’s jaw dropped. “To start putting us up in better accommodation in future.” He shook his head in amazement. “That’s… one of the most devious schemes you’ve ever come up with. And I’ve seen you on five separate Birling Days.” He punched Douglas lightly, who smirked.

 

“Yes, I was rather chuffed when I came up with the idea.” He grinned at Martin, kissed his forehead lovingly. “I hasten to add, that whilst I may have been deliberately a little… louder than sometimes towards the end there, I wasn’t faking anything. The feel of you – _God_.” He nuzzled into Martin’s cheek.

 

The captain felt a flicker of arousal stirring despite his shagged-out state. “That’s nothing.” He stroked Douglas’ cheek with his thumb, looked deep into his eyes. “Feeling you – filling me –“ He let out an appreciative sigh. “It’s a miracle I didn’t shout the whole place down.”

 

“You did fantastically,” Douglas teased. “I have to say, though – watching you battle with yourself to keep quiet… _well_.” The look in his face was both amused and heated. “Let’s just say that’s an aspect of my plan that even _I_ didn’t anticipate would be so… stunning.” He ran a sudden hand down Martin’s stomach, rested it just above his navel. Martin looked down, seeing his cock stirring again in spite of what they had only just done. Douglas had clearly noticed too, judging by the devilish glint in his smile. “Care to see if you can stay _completely_ quiet, this time, captain?”

 

Martin didn’t reply. Just grabbed a new flannel.

**Author's Note:**

> Whisht is, of course, a Scottish word for 'shh'. I liked that it was a homophone for 'wished'.
> 
> If you liked the fic - I now have Tumblr, which I'm trying not to tie myself in perplexed knots with. Feel free to pop in at jay-eagle.tumblr.com :)


End file.
